


Nothing Left but a Husk

by Starlight1395



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Husk is fucked up and is just trying to cope, Open Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Romantic or platonic you decide - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, hints of huskerdust and/or radiohusk if you squint, self-hate, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight1395/pseuds/Starlight1395
Summary: Husk didn't want to be at the hotel, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. He didn't have much of a choice for anything really. Everything he did was dictated by Alastor, who had his contract. It didn't matter how tired he was, or how badly he wished he could just... stop existing.That's all he wanted - for the weight in his chest to go away. For the vines that choked the air from his lungs to die. If that meant disappearing from existence entirely, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. It's not like anyone would care, or miss him, right?He finds it getting harder to not feel guilty for thinking such thoughts, especially when Angel and Al start being extra caring towards him, but he didn't understand. Why would they care?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Nothing Left but a Husk

Husk looked out across the bar, his arms feeling too heavy. He didn’t want to be there, but he didn’t really have a choice. He didn’t want to be at the hotel in general, but in particular he didn’t want to be at the bar at that moment. He wanted to go back to his generic hotel room, crawl under his plain hotel blankets, and sleep.

He couldn’t though, because Alastor held his contract, and Alastor wanted him to bartend for this shitty excuse for a passion project for the sickeningly optimistic Princess of

Hell, so that’s exactly what Husk did, whether he liked it or not. He was surprised as it was to see a handful of patrons at the hotel, and even more so when he realized those faces kept returning night after night, as if they were really taking this shit seriously.

Mixing another cocktail for some patron he didn’t bother to learn the name of, he wondered if he would be able to sneak away before the end of his shift. All he had to do was escape Charlie’s bright smile and he’d be in the clear for the evening. He glanced to his left, only to feel himself sneering.

Angel walked into the parlor, his grin sharp and his hips swaying. Husk honestly couldn’t stand the spider, because every single interaction they had involved Angel hitting on him, which he wasn’t planning on humoring. It seemed everything Angel did revolved around sex - if it wasn’t a sex joke, it was a proposition for sex, or a comment on someone’s sexuality or sexual appeal. It was as if there was nothing going on inside of Angel’s head that didn’t involve sticking something in something else, and it got on Husk’s nerves to no end.

“Husky~” Angel cooed as he sidled up to the bar. Husk ground his teeth, trying to keep from growling.

“The fuck do you want now?” He snapped, aggressively grabbing an empty glass off the top of the bar that had been left by another patron. He was trying his best not to shatter it, but he was already pissed off.

“I was just hopin’ for a drink Kitten, no need ta get ya tail inna twist,” Angel rolled his eyes, sitting on one of the barstools and resting his elbows on the bartop. “If ya can make it a little stronga, I’d owe ya one.”

“You know Charlie is really strict about how much booze I serve to the patrons.”

“Yeah, but the fasta I get drunk, the soona I’ll be outta ya fur.” Angel raised an eyebrow, staring Husk down. After a moment, Husk sighed and turned to the shelf of bottles and started pouring various liquids into a mixer. Angel grinned smugly, drumming his fingers along the wood under his arms.

Husk shook the mixer, letting the ice cool the booze. He glanced over at Angel - now the only one at the bar, seeing how it was late enough that most other patrons had gone to bed - who was quietly tapping away at his phone. He looked... tired.

Husk realized Angel was being too quiet.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He asked as he slid the glass over to Angel. He caught it with one of his hands, not taking his eyes off his phone.

“Nothin’ hot stuff,” Angel looked up and winked, but his grin quickly faded. “Long day at work is all.”

“Just fucking quit then,” Husk huffed, rolling his eyes. The heavy feeling in his arms was started to spread through his chest, making it hard to breathe properly. “Ain’t like you need to pay rent or anything.”

Angel didn’t respond. Husk busied himself with cleaning the bar. He technically still had four hours before he was off work - he tended bar and kept an eye on the front desk until three, making sure any stragglers coming back to the hotel signed in properly - but if he was lucky no one would show up for the rest of the night and he could get drunk in peace. He was partially sober and he was NOT happy about it.

“Husk! Husk, you’re not busy, are you?” Charlie came bouncing over, her face bright as always despite it being almost midnight.

“No.”

“Aw, you don’t even know what I was gonna say!” She instantly pouted, but it didn’t affect Husk - he lost any sympathy towards cute things long ago.

“Don’t care.” He said, voice monotone.

“Come on Husk... please~” She looked at him, eyes wide and sparkling. Husk felt a burst of rage go through his body but just barely managed to bite it back. Snapping at Charlie wouldn’t do anything but make her upset, and then he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Look Princess,” He put the glass he was drying down. “No means no-”

“HUSKY~” Angel decided to chime in at that moment. Everyone jumped a little, and when Husk glanced over at him, he was surprised to see the spider looking thoroughly smashed. “I don’ feel so good Husky... can ya-ya help me ta my room~”

“Angel! I thought you were supposed to be cutting back on your alcohol intake,” Charlie frowned, putting her hands on her hips but looking at Angel with concern. “How many drinks have you had?”

“Hehe you’re funny Toots,” Angel’s head lolled to the side a little, his eyes half lidded and his grin wide. His grin instantly turned to a pout as he swung around to look at Husk again. “I wanna go ta bed Husky... help me?”

“Do it yourself you-” Husk was cut off by Charlie.

“Help him to his room,” She said gently. “I’ll watch the desk until midnight and we can call it a night. One morning without someone watching the front won’t hurt anything.”

“Seriously?” Husk blinked.

“Just make sure Angel doesn't hurt himself, okay?”

“Fine...” Husk sighed, throwing his rag into a bucket that he kept under the bar. “Come on Legs, let’s get you out of my fucking bar.”

“Husky~” Angel grinned and chuckled, leaning on Husk’s shoulder. Standing upright, the cat stood just below Angel’s chin - though no one really knew this, with how much he hunched over when he was irritated, which was often. “Thank ya Husker~ My hero...”

“Whatever...” Husk growled, stumbling as he tried to keep Angel upright. He noticed as they were nearing the staircase that Angel still had his glass from the bar held firmly in one of his hands.

They made it to the top of the staircase when Angel’s weight was taken off his shoulders. Husk looked over at him and stopped, surprised.

Angel was fine. He was standing on his own, seemingly completely aware of where he was and what he was doing. He lifted his glass to his mouth, and Husk saw that it was still half full.

“The fuck was that about?” He asked. “You’re not drunk at all.”

“Nah, but I could tell ya would ratha gouge ya eyes out than listen ta Toots try ta guilt ya inta doin’ somethin’ stuip for her.” He chuckled dryly, taking another sip of his drink as he glanced down over the banister to make sure Charlie wasn’t within earshot.

“O-oh...” Husk didn’t know what to say.

“Well, I’m gonna finish my drink in th’ bath and pamper myself,” Angel grinned at the cat, winking playfully. “You’re welcome ta join if ya want.”

“Like Hell I’d want that.” Husk snapped, his tail flicking irritably.

“Your loss,” He shrugged. “Just sayin’ if Toots is on ya case for some shit, you’re welcome ta hide out in my room. Everyone avoids it cuz they think I’m gonna be jerkin’ it all th’ time, so no one’s gonna botha you there.”

“Th-thanks...?” Husk was taken aback. That was the last thing he was expecting to hear from Angel. Before he could think of another response, Angel was already walking away towards his room. Husk remained standing in the hallway for a moment before shaking his head and going to his own room. Charlie had given him the rest of the night off, and if Angel didn’t need him, he was free to go to sleep.

He sighed as he closed his bedroom door behind him. He clicked on the light and sighed again. His room was barren, only the base furniture that it came with. He didn’t see any reason to personalize it in any way, unlike Angel, who decked his room out from top to bottom to match his tastes.

With a single claw, he undid his tie and tossed it unceremoniously onto his dresser. With the same level of care, he threw his hat in the general direction of the dresser. He heard it miss and fall onto the ground, but he didn’t care. The weight was spreading again, down his chest and towards his legs. Even his eyes felt too heavy. He just wanted to sleep, but he was too sober to sleep without nightmares.

He reached under the bed and pulled out one of the many bottles of contraband booze that he hid from Charlie and Vaggie. He and Niffty had an agreement - she wouldn’t snitch on his alcohol and he wouldn’t snitch on how she would occasionally nab something from the rooms she cleans.

It tasted like water to him. Even before he died he could barely taste alcohol, but now that he was in Hell and alcohol poisoning wasn’t something he had to worry about, there was no reason not to drink himself into a coma every day.

At least when he was drunk he didn’t have to think. He didn’t need to care. When he was drunk, the world was pleasantly fuzzy and for a short while, he didn’t hate himself. Of course, that faded as quickly as his buz did, which was why he started each day with booze as well - he was chasing off his personal demons, not caring that it left him feeling worse than before.

“Goddamn...” He growled, running his claws through the fur on his cheek. His head was starting to ache, but he knew if he tried to go to sleep now he would just be plagued with dreams of jungles and bombs and the smell of burning flesh and-

He drowned the thoughts out with another gulp of booze. He didn’t want to remember.

His mind drifted towards Angel. It had surprised him that the spider helped him out like that, acting drunk just to get him out of that situation with Charlie. He didn’t think Angel cared at all, let alone willing to go out of his way for Husk’s sake.

Maybe there was more to Angel than just sex, contrary to his initial opinion of the taller demon. He wondered what else he was wrong about.

Was he wrong about Angel? Was he wrong about Alastor? Did he make the right choice when he made that deal with Alastor? Was it really all his fault? Was there any way he could have prevented all of this from happening? Or was he doomed to Hell from birth? Was he born a shitty person? Should he have been born in the first place?

Husk growled and shook his head, guzzling the alcohol. He could feel it dribbling from the corner of his mouth, soaking his fur, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to forget.

The empty bottle was placed gently next to all the others, out of the way so he wouldn’t drunkenly stumble into them and shatter them - he didn’t want a repeat of last time, where he had to fumble with a pair of tweezers to pull all the shards out of his feet while barely being able to see straight. He crawled into bed and buried his face in his pillow.

It was soft, but something about it still wasn’t right. Maybe it was because it wasn’t ‘his’ pillow - it was the hotel’s. Everything in his room was the hotels. The only things in there that were his were the bottles of booze and the cracked mirror in the bathroom.

He felt like a bottle himself - empty and too transparent for comfort. He needed to fill himself up with something, or he would go mad, so he drank himself to sleep, just so his bottle wouldn’t be dry anymore.

“Pathetic...” He whispered, his head swimming in that oh so familiar way. He wondered how long it would take him to fall asleep this time. Would he drift off easily, or would he have to struggle and toss and turn and-

He faded off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was going to be a bad day, Husk could already tell. The weight from the day before had carried over into the morning, and the thought of going downstairs to deal with the world was making him sick to his stomach.

He sat upright and bolted to the bathroom. Turns out, it wasn’t just the thought of interacting with people that made him sick, but also the booze he had self medicated with right before falling asleep. He threw up, bile and alcohol splattering onto the toilet. It was a sound he was far too familiar with.

“Fuck...” He coughed, spitting into the toilet as he got to his feet again. Grabbing the bottle of mouthwash from the sink cabinet, he swished some around to chase away the sour taste clinging to the back of his tongue. He didn’t know what time it was exactly, but he knew Charlie would be making her rounds soon, which meant he had minutes at most to make himself presentable before-

“Good morning Husk!” A chipper voice followed three sharp knocks. Husk groaned and stumbled from the bathroom.

“Mornin’....” He groaned. He knew if he didn’t respond, she wouldn’t leave - he had tried that before, pretending to still be asleep, and she just continued to bang on his door, going as far as to ‘remind’ him that she had a skeleton key for all the rooms in the hotel.

“Are you coming down to breakfast?” She asked, her voice muffled by the wood.

“I guess...” The thought of food made his stomach twist, but the kitchen was where he could get coffee and that was enough incentive to muster the strength to go out.

“Yay! Okay, see you down there!” Her smile was audible. Husk huffed and stared at himself in the mirror over his dresser, listening to her footsteps walking away. He looked like absolute shit, but then again that wasn’t anything new. Even when he didn’t feel like death warmed over he looked like shit. He stared at his reflection - the creature staring back at him made his skin crawl.

A fucking monster. He hated his eyes, with the dark scleras and the reflective irises, and he hated his hands with his claws and the stupid yellow hearts on his paws. He hated his stupid striped ears and his wings that were too heavy on his back and his tail that showed his emotions when he was doing his fucking best to hide them.

His hands shook as he tried to tie his bowtie. Frustrated, he growled and threw it back onto the dresser. He wasn’t in the mood to struggle with a STUPID tie, especially when he didn’t even like it. He appeared in Hell wearing it, like an ironic bitch of a reminder of his life - killing people in the war then going on with his life as if nothing was wrong.

Going on with his life and getting a job as a bartender with the stupid tie and the stupid button down uniform he needed to wear. He woke up in Hell wearing a mockery of the uniform he so despised.

Husk went over to his closet and pulled out one of the few things actually hanging up in there. He tugged on the hoodie, the black fabric blending into his fur somewhat. It had been a gift from Alastor, and one of the only ones Husk actually kept. It had a special back so all he had to do was pull it over his head and zip the back under his wings. Normally the things Alastor gave him weren’t practical, which was fine for Niffty because she liked cute dresses, but he didn’t care for things that weren’t easy.

“Hmm...” He sighed, immediately warmer and comfier. Maybe he would wear this more often.

He shoved his hands into the front pocket, his ears pressed down against his head from the hood that he didn’t bother to pull down, and left his room. Voices were already drifting through the hallways, and Husk wondered if it was even worth it to go down to get coffee, or if his best bet was to crawl back into bed and sleep this hangover away enough that he could start drinking again.

Before he could make the decision to turn around, his feet had already brought him to the dining room.

“Husk!” Charlie grinned at him from her seat. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“Yeah, what the fuck ever.” He growled, snuffling to his seat and sitting down heavily, his wing catching on the back of the chair. His irritation grew as he had to readjust pulling it around the back of the chair so his spine could rest comfortably.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, already gesturing to Niffty to bring the cat some food.

“No-”

“Don’t botha him too much Princess,” Angel snickered, walking into the dining room with all four hands filled with things. “He’s still half asleep.”

“You can just say hungover.” Vaggie rolled her eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Husk muttered, trying to keep his headache from getting any worse.

“Let the man recover,” Angel snickered towards the two women. Husk rested his chin on the table closing his eyes. It helped the headache a little bit, but he still wished he was in his bed. “Here Husky, you look like you need it.”

Husk cracked an eye open to see a mug and a plate being placed in front of him. He sat up and took the mug first and looked into it suspiciously. It looked like normal coffee, and smelled like normal coffee. Husk glanced at Angel, who had moved to the other end of the table to sit in his normal seat.

Taking a sip, it was as if his whole body relaxed in an instant. Normally he would take his coffee black to combat a hangover, but Angel had put in extra cream and it was the closest thing to heaven Husk had held in many years. There was the slightest hint of sweetness too, which meant Angel knew he didn’t like too much sugar.

He drained half the cup, not caring that his tongue was getting burnt, only putting the mug aside to look at the plate after the nausea started to fade. Surprised once again, he saw toast with what looked like a small amount of butter and a single scrambled egg - both Husk’s go to hangover foods.

He looked at Angel again, raising one eyebrow, but the spider wasn’t paying him any mind. In fact, he was too busy pestering Vaggie to even notice Husk’s eyes on him.

He smirked a little before slowly eating his breakfast, taking his time so he wouldn’t make himself sick. By the time he was done, everyone else had already left, but he didn’t mind. He had always been a bit of a slow eater, so it wasn’t unusual to finish his meals alone.

Gathering his dishes he shuffled his way to the kitchen. Niffty was probably off doing her own chores, so he would have to wash his own dishes. He could always just leave them, but then he would feel bad. Niffty was one of the only fuckers in this hotel that Husk didn’t like to burden more. She already did so much for them.

“Betta?” Angel asked as Husk entered the kitchen.

“Fuck-” Husk jumped, almost throwing his plate and mug across the room. His wings splayed out, his fur - what little was showing from under his hood - puffed up.

“Ppft, ya look like a pom-pom,” Angel snickered, reaching out and grabbing the dishes from Husk’s hands. Husk glared at him, throwing his hood back and patting his cheeks to smooth his fur down. “Don’t glare at me like that.”

“The fuck do you want?” He snapped, shoving his hands in his pocket again.

“Maybe a thank ya kiss?” Angel winked dramatically. When Husk’s lip curled in distaste, the spider’s loud laughter filled the kitchen as he threw his head back. After a moment he calmed himself. “I’m just tuggin’ ya tail Pussy Cat.”

“Don’t call me that.” There was no fire behind his words.

“Go take a shower and a nap. You’ll feel betta in no time.” Angel put the dishes in the sink, quickly washing them with his two sets of arms.

“Why do you care?”

“Who said I cared?” Angel asked back, but there was a strange tone to it.

“You-”

“I hafta go ta work soon, but maybe if I get back before ya turn in for th’ night I’ll visit ya at th’ bar.” Angel grinned over his shoulder. Husk felt a pang in his chest at the mention of Angel’s work.

“I don’t give two fucks what you do,” He huffed, hunching his shoulders. He could feel his primary feathers crossing over his ankles, his wings creating a blanket around him.

“You could fuck off and die for all I care.”

“Oh Husky,” Angel chuckled, but it sounded... sad. Husk’s ears pressed down, immediately regretting being so harsh. Before he had the chance to apologize, Angel spoke again.

“Well it’s always an absolute pleasure talkin’ ta ya, but I gotta go.”

“Wait-” Husk called, but he was a moment too late. Angel was already gone, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He slumped, wrapping his arms around himself. It offered little comfort, but even a little comfort was more than what he normally got.

He didn’t have to be at the bar until five that evening, so he was going to take Angel’s advice and shower at least. Maybe nap, but he’d play that by ear.

The second he closed the door behind him, Husk could feel the heaviness setting in again, pressing down on his chest and making his throat close up. He knew he needed to shower, but there was something far more appealing about curling up in a ball on top of his covers, which was exactly what he did.

His left wing was squished uncomfortably under his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn over. It was as if his limbs were filled with cement, making it impossible to even fathom the idea of twitching.

It felt like his chest was coming to a boil, the weight and the anger and the numbness rolling and suffocating him. He bit his lip, trying to keep the stinging from his eyes from turning into full fledged tears. All he needed to do was reach under his bed and he wouldn’t have to deal with this, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even roll over to grab the booze.

He dry sobbed, his lungs contracting painfully.

Why couldn’t he escape these feelings? At least during his life, drinking himself to death at least promised an end, but here there was no end. He was stuck for all of eternity. Stuck in this Hell, in this contract, in this body. There was no way out-

There was one way, but he couldn’t do it. Not again. Not while Alastor could sense his intentions and stop him again. Maybe if he could find a way to end his contract, he’d be able to get his hands on a heavenly blade and he could make everything GO AWAY-

Tears soaked into his blanket. He wanted to scream, or rip his claws through the covers until it was nothing but shreds, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was paralyzed by the weight, and all he wanted to do was stop existing.

By the time he was able to get out of bed, it was an hour before he was expected to be behind the bar. His body ached from staying in one position for too long but he couldn’t stay in bed any longer. His joints popped and cracked loudly as he quickly showered and shook the water from his fur. He didn’t care if he was still a little damp.

It wasn’t like he could get sick. Not for long, at least. A day or two with a cough was nothing in the grand scheme of eternity.

At least this time his hands were a little more steady as he did his tie.

* * *

“Oh my,” Charlie laughed awkwardly. “This drink is a little strong...”

“Are ya sure ya ain’t just a lightweight?” Angel grinned at her. He was three drinks into the evening and barely seemed affected at all.

“Let me try,” Vaggie took her girlfriend’s cocktail and took a sip. Her eye flew open as her face scrunched in disgust. “Holy shit! Husk, this is basically nail polish remover!”

“It can’t be that bad,” Angel rolled his eyes and plucked the glass from her hands. He threw it back without flinching. He stared at the wall for a moment before placing the glass down gently and turning to look directly at Husk, who was trying to ignore them all. “Husker, love ‘a my afterlife, that was gasoline.”

“No it wasn’t!” He snapped, his feathers splaying in frustration.

“Is something wrong Husk?” Charlie asked, concern heavy in her words. “You’ve been distracted lately. If something’s going on, you can talk to me-”

“Nothin’s going on!” He snapped, slamming the glass he had been about to put with the other dirt glasses onto the countertop, breaking it into large shards. He could feel the sharp edges digging into his paws, burying themselves deep within his skin, but he didn’t care. “Ain’t nothin’s wrong with me! Back the fuck off, would ya? Not everyone wants you to analyze their every fuckin’ move!”

The parlor fell silent. Even the patrons on the other side of the room stopped talking, glancing over at the bar curiously. All Husk could hear was his own heartbeat and his ragged breathing, his chest feeling tight. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more - scream, cry, or hide away for a few years.

His hands shook but he clenched them tightly. Sure, it dug the glass deeper into his palm, but it hid the blood from dripping freely onto the floor.

“Husk...” Charlie whispered, her voice broken. It only served to stab the cat in the chest, making him wince.

“What the fuck is wrong with you-” Vaggie began to snap when she was cut off.

“Leave it Vags.” Angel said softly, tapping her gently on the shoulder. She tensed for a moment before relaxing and glancing over at him.

“But-”

“Go take care of your hand,” Angel said to Husk, who was holding his paw close to his stomach. He could feel the blood soaking into the white fur, matting it down with the thick, hot crimson. It made his stomach flip. “I’ll clean this shit up, aight?”

Husk didn’t say anything. He just nodded and walked out from behind the bar, making a beeline towards the staircase. As he left, he heard Angel talking to Charlie.

“Don’t listen ta him Toots,” He was saying. Husk could hear the clinking of the glass shards as he talked. “We all deal with our own shit differently. Don’t be too mad at him fa havin’ personal demons.”

Husk hunched his shoulders. He didn’t like how on the ball Angel was. Was he that transparent? Was he really that obvious that he’s losing his fucking mind with each passing day? He slammed into his room, not bothering to lock the door behind him.

He knew his first aid kit was empty. He used the bandages months ago and never got around to replacing them.

The pain only served to clear his head. He dug the glass out with the tips of his claws, going a little deeper than he might have needed to in order to remove the glass. His hands were shaking from the pain, but he didn’t stop. He tugged on the edge of a particularly deep cut, right in the center of the heart, watching the yellow tear and become stained red.

It suddenly wasn’t enough. He wanted more - no, he NEEDED more. If he didn’t, he wouldn't be able to feel anything. He needed to feel, or else he would truly go insane. Not even drinking would scratch this itch. No, he needed something more.

Claws dug into his forearm, the thicker fur instantly soaking up the blood. Pain shot up his arms, making him grit his teeth. His own reflection glared back at him, a monster with sharp fangs and evil eyes. He let out a breathy chuckle, so close to being a sob, his entire body shaking with the effort to hold back tears.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” He growled. He even sounded like a monster, his words garbled by razor sharp teeth.

Rage bubbled up from deep within his chest, and he could barely even hear his own breathing through the white noise drowning out his thoughts. His lips curled up, his eyes started to glow yellow. His wings trembled behind him, taking up too much room.

The next thing he knew, the taste of iron flooded his mouth. Husk ripped his arm from his teeth, the skin completely mauled by his fangs. It was just the right amount of pain to wake him up.

“Oh fuck...” He fell to his knees, his mangled arm gripping the edge of the sink, the blood ran down his arm and dripped onto his cheek, staining the white red. Sobs wracked through his chest, and part of him wanted to crack a rib, just so he would be in pain longer. He deserved it, after all. He needed it. His claws, painted crimson, dug into the marble countertop, the scraping sound making his ears press back.

“Oh Husker...” A soft voice said from the doorway. Husk whipped his head around, his vision veiled by the rage fueled yellow glow. His nose wrinkled as he snarled, not recognizing who was kneeling next to him.

“D-don’t fuckin’ touch m-me.” He snapped, but the sobs broke his words up.

“You’re bleeding quite a bit, my friend,” Alastor said, his voice missing its usual static feedback. Husk was one of the few demons left alive that knew what Alastor’s real voice sounded like. “Allow me to help?”

“What does it fuckin’ matter?” Husk slumped down, his cheek pressing against the sink cabinet. His arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, reminding him that he was - unfortunately - alive. In a sense, at least.

“You’re gonna be aight,” Alastor hummed. Husk felt a hand running through the fur on his face and he didn’t bother to fight the purr building in his chest. The yellow started to fade as warm water was used to wash away the blood that had started drying. “Nothin’s gonna hurtcha now.”

Husk lost track of time. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour, but either way it felt like an eternity before Alastor finished tying off the bandage around his arm and propped him up against the deer’s shoulder.

“How are ya feelin?” Al asked, his voice vibrating through Husk’s chest..

“Like shit.” He answered weakly. He felt like he had just been thrown back by an explosion. His head was screaming and his muscles were aching. Bombs were the worst - they would go off when you didn’t want them to and blow your squad to pieces and no one would even consider that someone tampered with the fuse because bombs were so dangerous, so when one goes off unintentionally and kills everyone in your squad, leaving you the sole survivor, allowing you to be discharged for your trauma-

Husk bit back a sob. He tried to fucking hard to forget his life, but it kept coming back no matter what. He could be doing literally nothing and suddenly he’s back in the jungle, listening to bullets hitting flesh and children screaming as their villages burned. Every gunshot outside of the hotel made his fur stand on end. The only time he was able to function without reminders was when he was too drunk to see straight, as ironic as it was.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Alastor easily picked Husk up, the cat weighing next to nothing - without his wings, he would have weighed as much as Niffty. Husk felt himself be lowered onto the blankets, and a pillow be propped under his head. He whimpered lightly as the movement made his headache spike. He curled in on himself, his tail wrapping around his ankle.

“I hate this...” He whispered.

“I know.”

“I want it to stop...”

“I know...”

“I don’t want to exist anymore...” He choked on a sob, his tears instantly soaking into his pillow. Alastor was silent for a moment before Husk felt the mattress dip. A hand was carding through his fur again, and he felt his shoulders relax a little.

“I know Husker,” Alastor sounded choked. “I know.”

* * *

  
Husk staggered through the hallways, not entirely sure where he was. He enjoyed his after dinner dessert - an entire bottle of vodka - but since he hadn’t been all that hungry at dinner, it hit him harder than usual. The wallpaper swam, the shapes and colors disorienting him dangerously.

A soft pink light caught his attention. In the otherwise dim hallway, the glow was shining out from under a door, only a few feet away from where he was resting against the wall. His drunk mind connected the dots before he did, and the next thing he knew he was pushing open the door to Angel’s room. It was a safe place, right? He didn’t know why, but he thought it was a safe place. Was he safe there?

The spider was nowhere to be seen, but his room was bright and warm. The bed was drowning in blankets and pillows. The vanity, where the pink light was coming from, was crowded with perfumes and makeup and oils for Angel’s fur - even though his drunken haze, Husk noted how nice it smelled in Angle’s room, like a fruity cocktail or candy.

There were even fluffy area rugs covering the hotel’s standard carpeting. They were white and he felt like he was sinking into it. The walls had posters and there were string lights lining the ceiling. Husk squinted at the polaroid photos taped to the mirror - he didn’t even know Angel had a polaroid camera, let alone that he had taken pictures of everyone in the staff. Husk’s eyes stung when he saw the one of himself. He didn’t think Angel liked any of them enough, let alone Husk. How anyone could like him was unfathomable.

Overall, Angel’s room was comforting. It was warm and inviting. He wondered why he hadn’t been to Angel’s room before. The bed looked so nice, but something inside of him was begging him to curl up on the rug and sleep.

So he did. He rarely allowed himself to sleep like the cat he was, his body curled into a circle of warmth and protection, but he didn’t care anymore. All he cared about was the soft rug that felt like a goddamned CLOUD under his too heavy body. With a whimper, he curled in tighter on himself, wanting to get lost in the comfort.

“Husky? How long have you been ‘ere?” Angel gently shook Husk’s shoulder. He had walked into his room after a surprisingly mild day at work to see the cat curled up on his carpet, his wings covering him like a shell. “Husk?”

“Mmm,” He hummed, slowly blinking his eyes open. He stretched, his arms first then his legs, his wings trembling with the effort. When he finally relaxed fully, he looked up at Angel, who was kneeling next to him. “Angel?”

“Sorry ta wake ya up,” He smiled softly. “Figured th’ bed would be more comfy.”

“Mm...” He hummed again, letting Angel tug him to his feet. His head was still swimming, but he was much more sober than he had been when he stumbled into Angel’s room.

He didn’t think Angel would be so gentle with him, but it was as if the spider was afraid of breaking him by just adjusting him.

“Wanna go back ta sleep?” Angel asked. Husk just nodded, sinking into the softness of the bed. He felt arms wrap around him and he snuggled towards the warmth, wherever it was coming from.

“Time ta get up,” Angel mumbled, several hours later. His voice was rough from sleep, but still soft. “Does ya head hurt?”

“No...” Husk yawned wide, his ears pressing down. “Feel as good as I could after last night.”

“You’re lucky ya can’t really get alcohol poisoning down ‘ere,” Angel chuckled lightly, causing Husk to roll his eyes. “Seriously though, what happened?”

“Why do you care?” Husk snapped back, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Why did I walk inta my room ta see you passed out on my carpet?” Angel asked back, raising a single eyebrow.

“You said I could...” He muttered, his fur bristling a little in embarrassment. Angel just blinked at him before letting out a huff.

“Guess I did,” he stretched his top set of arms above his head and his bottom set in front of his waist. “Glad you’re feelin’ betta at least.”

Husk wrinkled his nose for a moment, letting the silence crawl down his throat, cutting off his air and suffocating him. He could hear his heartbeat a little too loudly. He wished he was still drunk. At least then he wouldn’t have to think.

“Ya don’t gotta do all a’ this by yourself ya know,” Angel said, breaking the silence. “Ya have people ta care ‘bout ya now.”

“Why should they?” Husk stood, crossing his arms defensively. He was still tired, but he didn’t know how much longer he would be welcomed there - how long Angel would want to put up with taking care of his stupid drunk ass before he got fed up and told Husk to fuck off for good, just like everyone else did-

“Cuz we’re friends, dumbass,” Angel snapped, his pretty face turned down in a frown. “Is it really that hard ta think that people care aboutcha?”

“Why would they care?” Husk wanted to leave. He didn’t want to be having this conversation this early in the morning. He didn’t want to be having it at all, if he was being honest. “‘S not like I do anything that’s likable.”

“Husk-”

“I gotta go.” He said abruptly, cutting Angel off. He didn’t acknowledge the hurt expression on Angel’s face, even though it cut him deep. He rushed towards his room, trying to block out Angel’s glassy eyes. He knew it was going to be in his nightmares, the next time he forgot to get drunk enough to sleep.

His room felt colder and emptier than usual, especially after spending the night in Angel’s. Impersonal and abrasive, just like him. HIs stomach rolled as he made a beeline for his bathroom, the remnants of the night before’s mistake coming back up far too quickly for his liking.

Turning the shower on, he put it on the hottest setting. He threw his tie and hat in some random direction and stepped under the stream of water, hissing as his skin was instantly scalded. It fucking burned, but it was fine. There was something so cathartic about boiling himself alive - it clears his head. Clears his emotions. It made it impossible to think about anything when his skin was on fire.

He bit the inside of his mouth. He refused to cry again - he REFUSED. He wasn’t weak, or pathetic. He wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t cry, or rather, he used to not cry a lot, but recently things have gotten worse. Now, his throat closed and his eyes stung at the drop of a hat and it was making him feel even shittier.

Dry laughter bounced off the walls as the steam filled the room, padding the air as he fought back another round of sobs. There were vines growing up his body, constricting his chest and choking him.

He couldn’t breathe - he couldn’t breathe he COULDN’T BREATHE-

Husk sat on the floor of the tub, letting the water hit the back of his head. His wings weighed him down, the feathers soaked through. He felt out of place even in his own shower, not fitting in there either.

Was he even meant to exist at all? Had Al made a mistake, making that contract with him? Did Al regret meeting Husk at all?

He stayed in the shower until the heat ran out, and even then he didn’t get out when he was being bombarded with frigid water. His scalded skin wasn’t soothed at all, his body wracked with tremors.

He only turned the water off when he lost feeling in his hands. Shaking, he wrapped the towel around his body like a blanket, the fabric soaking up the water instantly. He stumbled out of the bathroom, his limbs numb and his head fuzzy.

Husk threw the towel to the side, not caring that he was still soaked, and crawled into his bed. The covers were instantly warmer, and he paid no mind to the fact that he was drenching his mattress. He snuggled down into his pillows. He promised himself that he wouldn’t leave the safety of his bed for the rest of the day.

* * *

  
The parlor was quiet for once, and Husk was relaxed. He hadn’t had to serve too many people, and he could focus on cleaning the parts of the bar that had been neglected. He woke up feeling... not better, but slightly lighter. He was able to get out of bed without his body feeling too heavy, and talking to people wasn’t impossible for once.

He wiped down the bottles from under the bar, getting rid of the dust that settled around the glass and started dumping out the ones that were basically empty and putting aside the ones that weren’t all that popular with the patrons.

He didn’t hear Alastor come into the parlor, but he heard the radio static, so when he looked up and saw Al sitting at the bar, he didn’t jump.

“You look happy.” He huffed with a small smirk.

“Ah Husker!” Al trilled brightly. “There are so many things in Hell to keep one upbeat.”

“Did someone get killed?”

“Oh you know me so well,” Alastor laughed heartily. “There was a turf war on the other side of the Pentagram. It was truly delightful to watch.”

“You’re a weird motherfucker,” Huck chuckled. He quickly made Al his favorite drink and slid it towards him before turning back to what he was doing. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again. “Hey Al?”

“Yes Husker?”

“Do you...” He trailed off, not knowing where he was planning on going. “Do you regret making a contract with me?”

Alastor tensed, staring blankly at the bar for a moment, his smile frozen. He gently placed his cup down before turning his head to look at Husk fully.

“Why do you ask?”

“I dunno,” He started drying a glass that didn’t need to be dried. “I’ve just been thinking recently, that’s all.”

“I do not regret making a contract with you Husk,” Alastor’s voice was soft, and it scared the cat demon greatly. He wasn’t good with emotions, especially when it came to Alastor. “When I first found you, you were giving up. I’ve had the privilege to see you come alive again.”

“As if that’s the reason you made the contract,” Husk scoffed. “You just wanted to see how long it would take for me to off myself.”

“At first,” He wasn’t even ashamed. “But I quickly realized you were far more useful than just brief entertainment.”

Husk didn’t respond. He remembered the night Alastor came across him for the first time. It had been a clear night, ironically enough.

_He slumped against the alley wall, barely conscious. He had only been in Hell for a few days, and he already wanted out. He didn’t care about Heaven, or reincarnation. He just wanted to stop existing entirely._

_The disappointment when he woke up after putting a bullet through the side of his head was almost as crushing as the day his daughter killed herself. He was afraid to look for her, because he didn’t want to think that she went to Hell._

_“My, my, my... and what do we have here?” An echoing voice called out. Husk groaned and cracked one eye open to see a pretentious motherfucker with a microphone on the top of a cane walking towards him. A wide yellow grin stared down at him as the demon’s glowing eyes turned up. “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag!”_

_“What the fuck do you want?” He hissed, reaching for the bottle of booze he had been pouring more on his chest than into his mouth._

_“I was looking for a bite to eat, but you just looked so miserable that I couldn’t walk by without taking a gander!”_

_“Fuck off.” He tried to roll over but he found he couldn’t even do that. Looking to the side, he saw it wasn’t the intoxication this time, but rather inky black tentacles that had wrapped themselves around his arms and legs. Surprisingly, he found he didn’t care._

_“What now, little kitty?” The red demon grinned smugly, as if he had gotten the upper hand over Husk._

_Husk just looked at him. Even with how drunk as he was, he could feel how dead his face was. How blank his eyes were. He raised a single eyebrow, staring this mysterious demon down without a hint of fear or hesitation._

_The demon holding him paused, surprise going through his red eyes._

_“You gonna kill me or what?” Husk grumbled, rolling his eyes. The demon seemed taken aback for a moment. His bloodthirsty grin morphed into a more curious one._

_“Who are you?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly._

_“What does it fucking matter?” Husk snapped, losing his temper a little. “Just kill me already. Get it over it.”_

_“I don’t think I will,” He chirped, the tentacles around Husk tightening slightly. “I think we could gain much from one another.”_

_“No.”_

_“You don’t even know what I was going to suggest.”_

_“Don’t fucking care,” Husk slumped into the tentacle’s grip. “Just kill me... please...”_

_“I’ve never had someone beg to be murdered,” The demon laughed. “This is truly one of the more interesting interactions I’ve had in the last few decades. I have a proposition for you, my feline fellow.”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_“I think you might,” His grin sharpened again, his face darkening as his antlers began to grow. “Sign your soul over to me and you’ll want for nothing. You’ll have the protection of the Radio Demon. You’ll get anything you could want... all you’d have to do is come when I call, and help me with tasks now and again.”_

_“Why would I want to sign my soul over to you when you could just kill me and put us both out of our misery?” Husk sighed. He was getting tired of his conversation. He knew he was going to pass out soon. HIs vision was starting to swim and his limbs were going numb from how tightly he was being held._

_“How about this,” The demon brought his face closer to Husk’s. “Your services, in exchange for knowing where your daughter ended up.”_

_Husk froze, suddenly feeling much more sober. How did this son of a bitch know about her? Who was this asshole? What did he really want? He started to struggle for the first time since he had been captured._

_“How the fuck do you know about her?” He growled, wriggling and trying to get at least one hand free to attempt clawing at the tentacles._

_“You were muttering about her,” The demon rolled his eyes. “It’s what caught my attention in the first place.”_

_“You...” Husk went limp. “You’ll tell me what happened to her? Really?”_

_“And I swear to tell the whole truth of the matter,” The demon grinned again. “So, do we have a deal?”_

_The tentacles around Husk’s arms loosened their hold on him as the red demon offered his hand to shake. Husk didn’t know much about Hell, but he did know that making deals with stronger demons was never a good decision to make. Despite that knowledge, he reached out and grabbed the red demon’s hand, shaking it firmly._

_Green lights filled the alley, casting dancing shadows on the filthy bricks. Husk felt something shoot through his arm and settle into his chest. He was completely sober, no trace of alcohol in his system after the magic of the deal rushed through his body._

_“What’s your name, my friend?”_

_“Husk...”_

_“It’s a pleasure to make this deal, Husker,” He took his hand back, but Husk could still feel the tingling in his palm. “Alastor, the Radio Demon at your service.”_

True to his word, Alastor found Husk’s daughter within the week. She wasn’t in Heaven, but she wasn’t in Hell either. It wasn’t the answer Husk had been hoping for, but it was a relief in itself to know she wasn’t in Hell with him.

“No, Husker, I don’t regret making that deal,” Al brought Husk back to the present. “The only thing I regret was not doing enough to help you.”

“You’re being sappy,” Husk tried to sound bored but it was too soft. “You do better with threatening or pissing people off.”

“Even I can be caring sometimes,” Alastor scoffed. “You know that I hold both you and Niffty in a special place.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“I wonder if the others would be willing to learn poker.” Alastor said out of nowhere, surprising Husk.

“What? Why?”

“Well, you are the best poker played I know,” Al grinned innocently at him. “So who better to run a few games than you?”

“Charlie doesn’t want gamlbing in her stupid hotel.” Husk tried not to get his hopes up - as much as he would love to play some poker, he knew it would be shut down before it could really go anywhere.

“Gambling with money may not be something that Miss Charlotte would approve of, but maybe if the stakes were less... staggering.”

“Staggering?” Husk raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry Husker! I will make sure there are proper incentives for the games. All you have to do is be here and have your cards.”

“Why not?” Husk sighed after a moment. What did he have to lose?

“Perfect! I will see you and the others gathered here this time tomorrow,” Alastor stood and twirled his cane in one hand. “Prepare yourself, my friend! I have a feeling Angel will pose quite the competition.”

Husk rolled his eyes as Alastor began to hum, walking out of the parlor. Somehow, even after recalling his first few days in Hell, Husk found he was in a surprisingly good mood.

“What a fucking asshole.” He smirked as he put some glasses away. Maybe this hotel wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be.

Angel chose that moment to wander into the parlor, heading right towards the bar and sitting down without a word. Husk began mixing the cocktail that the spider tended to order, especially if he had the opportunity to drink before midnight.

“Thanks Husky,” Angel took the drink with a smile. “How are ya feelin?”

“Better,” Husk admitted. He found it wasn’t as hard to day in front of Angel. “Sorry for the other day...”

“Nah, you don’t gotta apologize fa that,” Angel waved his hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you’re feein’ less shitty.”

“... do you have plans for tonight?” Husk asked after a moment.

“Nope, it’s my day off,” Angel tapped at his phone a few times before locking it and tucking it in his blazer pocket. “Why? Have something in mind?”

“Mm, maybe...” Husk pressed his ears against his head, his fur puffing up. “Just... come here.”

He pulled Angel towards the couch facing the fireplace and pushed him down. Angel bounced slightly on the cushion, his mouth turned up in amusement and confusion. Without another word, Husk curled up in Angel’s lap. He tucked his wings tight against his back so he could rest comfortably.

“You can nap if ya wanna,” Angel hummed, petting Husk’s head as he scrolled through his phone with another hand. “I won’t let anyone botha ya.”

Husk didn’t respond, but he started purring gently. In that moment, despite everything, he felt at home. He could feel the weight that crushed his lungs and pinned him to his mattress creeping around the corner, but for a short while, he could breathe.

And he was going to allow himself to breathe, just this one.

**Author's Note:**

> I call this one 'I'm so depressed I want to relapse so instead I'll put my fav characters through hell and back and call it COPING OWO'. I love projecting my own problems and thoughts onto fictional characters that can actually have a happy ending, unlike the rest of us lmao If this does become a ship fic, it's probably going to be huskerdust, mayhaps radiohuskerdust if I'm feeling particularly affection starved XD 
> 
> I know it's a little choppy, but I wanted to post this before I deleted the whole thing. This is definitely a self indulgent vent fic, so I'm not overly worried about the composition being perfect. I left it open for a second chapter, and if this slump doesn't pass soon I'll probably take a swing at a second part for the ✨catharsis✨


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